Specialists
by Synaps
Summary: Danny and Valerie are ghost hunters. As in, they hunt ghosts. The fact that other monsters even exist comes as a shock, which means they can't turn down the Winchester brothers' offer to teach them more. However, given Danny's weird abilities, teaming up with other hunters is a risk in and of itself. Further, the Winchesters seem to be hiding similar secrets.
1. For Those About To Hunt

**AN:** Season 2 for SPN, and completely AU for DP.

Partly inspired by _The Family Business_ by ShinobiCyrus over on AO3.

* * *

 **For Those About To Hunt (We Salute You)**  
Haunted House - part 1 **  
**

* * *

 **THEN**

* * *

 _Valerie shifted her weight from one foot to the other, knuckles white as she held onto her borrowed shotgun for dear life._

 _The Fenton siblings made an efficient team, Danny drawing lines with salt and Jazz trying to figure out what they were dealing with by talking to Valerie's dad._

 _Not that the latter was doing them any good. Damon was too afraid to be coherent, muttering about the barking of dogs._

 _At first, Valerie had thought he'd been hallucinating. Now, even she heard them._

" _Is there anything else we need to do?"_

 _Danny looked surprised that she'd asked. "Not much else we_ can _do. Not until these ghost dogs appear again, anyway."_

 _Valerie didn't like that answer, but there was precious little she could do about it._

 _Danny put away the remaining salt, pulling up his own shotgun. "Here's the plan, we keep your dad safe until we can figure out what's going on. You said he worked security, right? Just like that other guy who died?"_

 _Valerie nodded. The Fenton siblings had come to town to investigate the death of Damon's co-worker, a man she'd only met twice in passing._

" _Were there any guard dogs around? Any that he had to have put down?"_

" _No."_

" _That makes it harder." Danny frowned, failing to hide his disappointment even as he muttered curses under his breath."I didn't even know animals could become ghosts."_

" _Well... Are you sure its a ghost?" Valerie wouldn't normally have questioned him, since Danny obviously knew a lot more about the subject than she did, but her dad's life was on the line._

" _What else could it possibly be?"_

* * *

 **NOW**

* * *

The floorboards creaked under their feet.

Marcy grabbed onto Hannah's arm. "We need to find the others."

The old house smelled of dust and wood. When they accidentally ruffled the curtains, several moths flew through the room. Hannah tracked them idly with her flashlight.

Marcy coughed as she pulled apart the curtains, letting in some light, but releasing a cloud of dust.

As the yellow glow of nearby streetlight entered the room, the previous complete darkness gave way. As faint as the light was, combined with Hannah's flashlight it turned the room into a dichotomy of sharp shadows and lighter spots. Every single piece of old furniture looked like a monster when viewed at the wrong angle.

Hannah just smiled, her eyes glowing with passion. "Come on, Marcy! You're embarrassing me in front of the ghosts."

Marcy replied with a silent glare. Just because Hannah was seventeen didn't make her all brave or mature, she was only three months older than Marcy.

Marcy rubbed at her arms. She was developing goosebumps. Not because she was scared or anything, there was just the cold of a draft.

Hannah's flashlight flickered. Marcy gave a small squeal, but quickly silenced herself as Hannah laughed.

Then the light went out completely, and Marcy gave up all pretence of not clinging to her friend.

"Hannah."

Hannah hit the back of the flashlight, hoping to get the battery going again. "I'm working on it, stop being such a chicken."

Something moved behind them. The door they had purposefully left open slammed closed, but when they turned around there was no one there.

"Hannah!"

"Oh relax. It's probably just Simon and Jessica. They're trying to scare us."

Marcy wasn't sure she believed that.

* * *

The Fenton Family Ghost Assault Vehicle, aka the RV, looked like a news van.

It was silver, with the logo of a made-up station at the side. Danny switched the logo between cases, but he had a couple he re-used. His favourite was 'Weird World Weekly', a fake magazine about the supernatural. Pretending he was from WWW let him ask all the weird questions without holding back. It made the job much easier. The one he used the most often was 'Channel 1408', because most people weren't willing to talk to the WWW about their recently murdered family members.

Of course, that was the _outside_ of the van. The _inside_ lived up to its name, with ancient seals scribbled over every available surface and hidden guns at easy-to-reach locations.

Danny had spent most of his childhood in the back of the RV, he knew every inch of it.

The same couldn't be said of his companion. Valerie was eyeing the radio with suspicion.

He didn't blame her, since the radio had been 'improved' by a very enthusiastic Jack Fenton many years ago. It was supposed to be more fuel efficient and capable of picking up ghostly activity, but the end result was that you ran a 50% chance of getting zapped with electricity when you tried to change the channel.

Which was why Danny and Valerie were listening to country.

"I think you should risk it, it can't be more painful than this." Danny scrunched up his nose at the enthusiastic banjo solo.

"I thought we agreed that the driver decides the music." Valerie crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back in the _passenger_ _seat._

Danny winced. That was an old rule, made to battle Jazz's horrible tastes.

"I guess." He poked the radio like one might poke a sleeping cobra, pulling his hand back before it could wake up and bite him. It didn't help, and he yelped at the static clinging to his fingers. "I hate getting electrocuted."

Valerie snorted inelegantly, but didn't comment as the car was filled with the sound of electric guitars.

Danny rolled his eyes as the heavy metal was interrupted by the Ghostbusters theme.

"Answer that?" Danny inclined his head towards the steering wheel, to show that he was busy.

"Sure, it's probably just Tuck." Val pulled the cell phone out of Danny's shirt pocket, flipping it open. "Hey, what can I do for you?"

Judging by her bemused expression, the reply was a bad come-on. Definitely Tucker on the other side then.

"You've got a case for us?" Valerie sounded hopeful as she pulled out a notebook and a pen. "Yeah, we're still in Indiana... I think?"

At her questioning look, Danny nodded.

"Still in Indiana," confirmed Valerie into the phone. "A haunted mansion? Cliché much?"

"It's a classic," protested Danny, but Val just shushed him and wrote something down on her pad.

"Thanks, Tuck."

She hung up, sliding the phone back in Danny's pocket.

"So, where to?"

* * *

The Winchester brothers rolled into Springville, Indiana just in time for lunch.

It was a small town, just enough houses clustered together for there to be two supermarkets and one movie theatre.

They quickly found a diner. Not that finding a diner was hard, after a while you got a feel for where they would be. On some level, all small towns were the same.

The diner itself was painted in light yellow, or maybe bright yellow that had faded over time, and filled with shining chrome. The place was well-worn, but also well loved. It had probably been owned by the same family for generations. They served excellent pie, which the menu claimed was made with _'grandma's secret recipe'_. Dean thought the secret ingredient was likely to be cardamom. (Or maybe love, but he wouldn't say something that cheesy out loud.)

All things considered, including the recent deaths of local youth, it was a rather nice town.

Of course, in a small town the deaths of several youngsters left a distinct taste in the air. Hushed whispers from the other patrons in a mostly empty diner, the waitress's smile not quite reaching her eyes. They weren't used to people dying. It was the sort of thing they might read about in the paper, the sort of thing that happened to _other people_ , not the sort of thing that could happen to _them._

A part of Dean wondered what that was like.

Dean had been the one to find the case, though he hadn't found that many details before deciding to take it on. In a town as small as Springville, an epidemic of dead teenagers was likely to be their thing. Mostly, they had been close-by and hadn't found anything else to do.

"We should probably stop by the morgue." Sam was mostly thinking aloud, his eyes on an article in a newspaper. Three local kids found dead in abandoned house. "See if our dead kids tell any tales."

Dean shrugged and ate some more pie. "I'm surprised a place this small has a morgue."

"It's not here, it's in the hospital two towns over."

"Let's ask around first. Maybe we don't have to waste the trip."

Sam mumbled something that Dean interpreted as agreeing. Whether it was _meant_ as agreement was another issue entirely.

"We should start with the families and at the school, see if any of the teens' friends knew what they were up to." Dean ate some more pie.

"And check in with the police. There might be some more connection between the kids other than just where they were found."

* * *

While Valerie's driving was, objectively, better than Danny's, Danny got them to their destination faster.

That was part of what made Val the better driver.

She had the advantage of learning to drive in a normal driving school, rather than under Jack Fenton's guidance while fleeing the police because they'd broken into at a murder scene and stolen evidence. (Said evidence had been haunted, they'd salted and burned it. The police didn't like that for some reason.)

They slipped into the cheapest looking place they could find, an overly cheery diner. It was nearly empty, except for two men in suits and a family of three. Danny and Val sat down as far away from the suits as they could.

They ordered burgers and sodas.

"So, do we have a plan?" Danny reached for one of Valerie's fries. She slapped away his fingers and glared at him half-heartedly.

"Tucker sent over all the info." Valerie opened her laptop, still keeping a watchful eye on her fries. "We've got the address where the kids were found."

"The aforementioned 'haunted mansion', right?"

"Right." Valerie turned the computer around so Danny could see it. "What do you think?"

It was a lavish house, if more than a bit run-down. "If I were looking to haunt someplace, that'd be some fine piece of real-estate."

"Be serious."

"Okay, _fine_." Danny sighed deeply, dramatically. "I'd haunt the RV."

Valerie smirked and turned her laptop around again, tapping something on the keyboard. "I'm thinking we should check it out tonight."

"We don't even know whose ghost it is."

"I meant more along the lines of checking that there _is_ a ghost. It could just be run-of-the-mill murder."

"You wanna go around outside the place and see if I sense anything?" Danny frowned.

"Exactly."

Danny ordered some pie as a way to buy himself time to think it over. It _wasn't_ a bad idea, per se, but years of ghost hunting had honed his instincts to the point where he knew it _was_ a bad idea. He just couldn't put it into words.

Valerie waited in silence as the waitress delivered Danny's pie.

"It just seems like tempting fate, is all."

"If we're somehow pulled inside the house and have to fight our way out, you get to say 'I told you so' afterwards."

"Well, if you put it like _that_..."

Danny took a bite out of his pie. It was lukewarm, since he'd ignored it for too long. It probably tasted better steaming. He figured the famed "secret ingredient" had to be vanilla or something.

Valerie nibbled at a French fry, and he eyed it with envy. She noticed and looked pointedly at his pie. He ignored the silent jab.

"Sure, let's see if there _is_ a job here before we start working it." Danny sighed loudly. He already knew he was going to regret the decision.

* * *

 **AN:** Yeah, this chapter was mostly introductory stuff. I've got lots of backstory for the DP gang that I'll give you through the THEN flashbacks, so if there's anything you're wondering about... feel free to mention it in a review so I know what people want explained first. (Of course, certain things I'll hold back until the right moment...)

However, this isn't _just_ introductions. I managed to get in plenty of hints for stuff that's going to be plot important later.

Danny and Valerie are both 18.


	2. I Told You So

**I Told You So  
** Haunted House - part 2 **  
**

* * *

 **THEN**

* * *

" _You should quit too, while you still can." Jazz closed her bag and looked Danny directly in the eyes._

 _He was the one to break eye contact, uncomfortable. It was already way too late for him. "And what, just_ let _people die?"_

 _Jazz didn't answer, but the way she clenched her jaw translated as 'better them than you'._

" _Do you think mom and dad would have quit, if it was one of us that died?" She suddenly seemed introspective, and melancholic._

 _Danny shook his head. He didn't think that. Their parents had lived for the mission._

 _She shouldered her back-pack, and pulled her wheeled travelling suitcase behind her. He wondered briefly if that really was everything she owned... and if he had more possessions. Their lives had always been Spartan, what with living in the back of an RV, but surely he owned more than two bags' worth of things._

 _He dragged his hand over his face when he realised why Jazz only had two bags – she was leaving all of her weapons behind. That went against everything they'd ever been trained to do. If he hadn't been sure she was quitting before, that cemented it._

" _You should really take a gun... Since you only care about protecting your own sorry hide."_

 _That came out wrong._

 _She glared at him, but she didn't say anything._

 _He had to bite down on his tongue to stop himself from apologising. They'd been around a lot of manipulative people growing up, and Jazz had taken to that part of hunting too easily. She was just trying to get him to quit again, it wasn't like he'd actually_ _hurt her feelings. Jazz believed in 'communicating her emotions' and other psychology nonsense. Normally, she'd rant a bit and then get over it. She wasn't ranting now. Either she was faking it to manipulate Danny, or he'd hurt her much deeper than he'd intended._

 _He wouldn't say he was sorry, not when_ she _was the one leaving people to die just because she wanted to go to get a degree._

 _Jazz didn't stop to pack a weapon._

* * *

 **NOW**

* * *

The Winchesters were at the house of one of the dead kids. Marcy Johnson, age sixteen, left behind a single father, Henry, and a younger sister, Sarah.

It was a nice house, painted in light colours both inside and out. There was a crooked old apple tree by the front door. Despite the care which had obviously gone into it before, the inside of the house smelled of old food, cigarettes and cheap beer.

They hadn't gotten much information out of Henry. He had retreated into himself to deal with the grief, leaving his _living_ daughter to handle everything on her own.

Part of Dean wanted to shake Henry until he came out of his stupor.

In lack of better options, Sam was talking to Sarah. For a grieving pre-teen, she was surprisingly helpful.

"The ghosts got them." An older person wouldn't have been half as confident saying that sentence, but a child could get away with unquestioningly believing their sister had been killed by vengeful spirits.

"What ghosts?"

"The ghosts in the mansion. Marcy and her friends spent the night there to prove they weren't scaredy-cats, and the ghosts killed them."

Sam shot Dean a meaningful look, and the two patched things up with the Johnsons as fast as they could.

"Haunted house?" Dean slid into the driver's seat of the Impala. "Haven't had one of those in a while."

"It's worth checking out."

"Yeah. Did you find out where the teens were found?"

"It's in the police report." Sam's eyes narrowed. "The one you _should_ have been reading last night."

Dean shrugged as best as he could while still keeping one hand on the wheel.

"It's some abandoned house, but that doesn't necessarily mean ghosts." Sam sighed. "At least now we know why they were there. I was looking into monsters that lure their prey, or even just used it as a convenient dumping ground."

"Well, let's check who the previous owners were."

* * *

Caldwell house. That was the unofficial name of the place the kids had been found. It had been abandoned for years, after the Caldwells ended up killing each other in some infidelity drama.

Any of the involved people could be the murdering ghost. There was the usual suspect, the faithful wife who had murdered the mistress. As well as the unfaithful husband who had walked in on the murder and ended up killing his wife in a failed attempt to save said mistress. Not to mention the mistress herself, since getting murdered could fuel the need to get even.

"Lovely people," snarked Dean as he closed the laptop and leaned back on his motel bed. The sheets smelled of cheap detergent, that was probably supposed to smell like flowers, which clashed horribly with the lemony scent of whatever had been used to clean the floors. As comforting as it was that someone actually had cleaned the room, Dean breathed through his mouth.

"Okay, so it seems _likely_ that we're dealing with the ghost of one of these people." Sam lounged on a cheap wooden chair. It wasn't very comfortable, and it made distressed noises whenever he moved.

"Just because the kid thinks so doesn't mean that it's true." Dean said what was on both of their minds. If they salted and burned the bodies, left, and turned out to be wrong... People would die because of their negligence. Going into a haunted house was a risk, but it was one they had to take every time they dealt with ghosts.

"You're up for a field trip?"

"I've got the EMF meter." Dean grinned.

* * *

The house stood on a small hill, separated from the rest of the neighbourhood by the thick foliage of some nearby trees.

Valerie was touting a shotgun, while Danny had his mom's old iron knife. As far as family heirlooms went, it was nowhere near as elegant as the silver cutlery that was usually passed on.

The night air was invigorating, but too cool. It was the sort of cold that chilled you to the bones, making you feel the ice from inside and out.

"Remember, we're not here to fight anything."

Val rolled her eyes. "I know. You've said that, like, five times already."

"We're just here to check if there are any ghosts. Quickly, so they don't notice us."

"Danny. Relax. It's not my first rodeo."

 _'No, but it is our first hunt without Jazz.'_

He took a deep, shuddering breath before nodding.

They approached the run-down building with caution.

Danny's fingers were locked around the handle of his knife.

The windows were cracked. One had a huge hole, like if kids had been hurling rocks at it.

Through them, they could see only darkness. It was the sort of darkness that was more than the mere absence of light. It was thick, and almost alive with intent.

No, _alive_ was hardly the right word to describe it. It was dead and moving, still willing to fulfill the last desires of those who had died in anger. Danny shuddered. His imagination was running away with him again, but there _were_ ghosts in the building. How many he couldn't yet make out.

Danny felt himself drawn to the house. It was far from the first time he found himself in a staring contest with the abyss. His heart beat loudly in his ears, reminding him that whatever else he was, he was still alive.

It was only when they were near enough that Danny could have reached out and touched the mansion that he sensed it clearly. "There are three ghosts here."

Valerie scowled. "Three? Ugh."

Danny nodded, and was about to say something, when a shout echoed across the grounds. "Did you hear that?"

"I heard it." Valerie turned around, sticking her shotgun into her jeans so it was hidden under her brown leather jacket.

* * *

Dean swore to himself as the clouds in the sky was blown aside and moonlight silhouetted two kids up on the hill.

Were all teenagers suicidal or something? The town wasn't large enough to have more than one school, so they must have known the victims. Why they thought it was a good idea to go where their friends had died, he'd never understand.

Dean picked up his pace and shouted something incoherent at the kids.

The two kids, who were only a few years older than the ones who had died, turned around to face Dean and Sam.

"Police." Dean flipped open a false badge. Sam copied him. "This is the crime scene of an active investigation."

The kids shared a look. The girl looked irritated, while the boy seemed a bit nervous.

"You're right." The boy looked towards the house. "We should go. Right now. You should probably come with us to make sure-" He trailed off, eyes widening.

Dean spared a glance in the direction he was looking in. Nothing.

Then the nothing flickered, like a broken video tape.

Dean began tensing even before the flickering nothing turned into a slightly greyscale woman. Dark blood covered her chest. Her mouth was slightly open, like she was trying to say something, but she made no sound. Her eyes were wide, angry, and completely focused on their small group.

Both Winchesters pulled out their shotguns. The ghost woman disappeared in a burst of rock salt.

"You're hunters!?" The boy's voice was somewhere between fear and relief.

The EMF meter in Dean's pocket gave a loud noise.

"Danny! Focus!" The girl pulled out a gun on her own.

"Right. Sorry." He looked around. "I think the other two are on their way."

"The other two?" Dean gripped his shotgun harder, making his knuckles whiten.

The kid, Danny, opened his mouth to answer. Before he could get a word out, he fell to the ground. Or rather, he was knocked to the ground. His arms flayed helplessly as something pulled at his legs, dragging him closer to the house.

The girl shot slightly above Danny's legs. The ghost dragging him gave a strangled scream as it disappeared.

Sam pulled Danny to his feet.

"Valerie?" Danny pulled out a knife. He held it in front of himself with a steady hand, which didn't match the unease on his face.

"Don't say it."

"You said I could."

"If you got dragged into the house." Valerie frowned. "Look around, you'll notice that we're still outside."

Dean moved closer to the others. He kept his shotgun pointed forward, even as he started herding them back to the road. "I take it you're hunters."

"Less talking, more- DOWN!"

Valerie reacted immediately to Danny's shout, and the ghost man that had been creeping up on Dean was shot in the chest.

"Less talking, more digging up graves?" suggested Dean.

"Yes. That sounds good."

* * *

 **AN:** Danny's view on why Jazz quit hunting is far from the full picture. (He's not _completely_ wrong, but he's bitter about being abandoned and interpreting things in the worst possible way.)

I haven't written horror in years. So many years. It's actually sort of nice to get back to my roots.


	3. Medium Awareness

**Medium Awareness  
** Haunted House - part 3 **  
**

* * *

 **THEN**

* * *

 _The night air was warm and damp, clinging to Valerie's skin like sweat. Whenever the slightest breeze came by, the relief made her sigh. She really wanted a shower._

 _Valerie was sitting outside on a bench, trying to remain unnoticed. Back in the RV, Danny and Jazz were yelling at each other._

 _She knew how that would end. Jazz had made up her mind already._

 _It didn't make listening to them any easier._

 _As a bonus, she felt like she was intruding._

 _Ergo, sitting outside without the comfort of the occasionally working AC that Jack Fenton had built himself out of a microwave or something._

 _It was no surprise when the door to the RV was flung open and Jazz exited, carrying her bags._

 _Valerie got up, deciding to at least say good bye properly._

 _Jazz's head snapped towards the motion. She relaxed when she saw who it was, and closed the distance between them._

" _You're leaving."_

 _It wasn't a question, but Jazz nodded none the less._

" _Look after him, will you?" Jazz spared a look back towards the Assault Vehicle._

" _That goes without saying."_

 _Jazz's lips thinned. "I know, I just... I worry about him, especially now that mom and dad..."_

 _Once again, the feeling that she was an outsider looking in at things she had no right to intrude on hit Valerie hard._

" _Just... take care of each other."_

 _Her throat felt like it had tied itself into knots, making it hard to swallow and impossible to say anything. Valerie nodded in lieu of trying to force the words out._

 _Jazz searched her face, and seemed to find what she was looking for. "I'm trusting you with this, you know he's not..."_

 _Not_ normal, _but Jazz wouldn't put it like that. Danny might, if he was in one of his self-hating moods, but never Jazz._

" _Other hunters might not understand. Please protect him, even if it's from-"_

" _As I said, that goes without saying."_

* * *

 **NOW**

* * *

Valerie's hands closed around her shotgun. She didn't touch the trigger, it was common sense to keep your finger away from it unless you were actually planning on shooting something, but the weight of the weapon in her hands was a comfort.

The two hunters, who she had secretly nicknamed Tall and Shorty, herded them away from the rundown mansion and towards their car. A small part of her mind noted that it was a very nice car.

The phrase 'don't get into cars with strange men' echoed in her ears. It was said in her daddy's voice.

Danny looked like he wanted to take his chances with the murderous ghosts, but he squared his shoulders and got into the back seat without protest.

Valerie followed him, while keeping a suspicious eye on the other hunters.

Shorty got into the driver's seat, and drove off at speeds Valerie had only ever experienced when it was Danny behind the wheel.

Tall, on the other hand, rummaged through the glove compartment. Valerie had to stop herself from tensing.

"I didn't get a good look at the ghosts." Tall passed them a folder. "Do you recognize any of these?"

Valerie simply handed the papers over to Danny, who nodded.

"Do you know where they're buried?" Danny was focused on the files, to the exclusion of everything else.

"We're on the way right now," said Shorty, who wasn't actually all that short if you weren't comparing him to his hunting buddy.

"I'm Sam Winchester. This is my brother, Dean." Tall gestured towards the driver, who gave them a sarcastic salute.

"Valerie Gray."

"Danny F-Foley." Despite the stutter, Danny's lie was pretty smooth. Hopefully the Winchesters would discount it as remaining adrenaline from the fight, or just normal hunter paranoia.

The tires screeched as Dean pulled them to the parking lot outside of a church, and the town's cemetery.

Valerie kept her guard up as the Winchesters went to the trunk and pulled out two shovels.

"You keep watch while we dig." Sam handed over his shotgun to the woefully under-armed Danny.

Valerie was all too happy to agree.

Danny was distracted, but he snapped out of it when she introduced her elbow to his side. He glared at her, though there was no fire in his eyes. If anything, he seemed exhausted.

"Look alive."

That earned her a loop-sided grin. "Thanks, you really know what to say to _lift_ _my_ _spirits."_

"Don't you dare." She rolled her eyes.

Danny smirked.

They ran into the dark cemetery. The light of four flashlights trailed over different tombstones, quickly enough to glance at the name and move on.

"Found 'em." Dean's voice sounded over the graveyard. "Him and the wife were buried together. Thank God for small favours."

"Here's the other one," Valerie called over Sam, while his brother started digging at the one he found.

Danny tensed, and Valerie had her shotgun ready even before he said anything. After a few hunts, you got used to paying attention to even the smallest reactions of the guy who could sense ghosts.

"We've got company."

* * *

Sam dug, the muscles in his shoulders protesting.

It was hard work, especially when in a rush, but it didn't take a lot of thought.

As such, it wasn't nearly distracting enough for him to not notice that Danny was consistently shooting the ghosts _before_ they became visible.

Some kerosene, a lot of salt, and two dropped lighters later, the ghosts exploded into flames.

Sam was exhausted, but they could take a break before reburying the burned corpses. There were more important things to deal with first.

"So, you're psychic?" Sam leaned on his shovel, trying to appear casual.

Despite his efforts, both Danny and Valerie tensed.

Dean's head shot up. He walked over to them, glancing between Sam and the other hunters.

"That makes it sound like I can see the future, I'm more of a medium." Danny's smile was thin.

Valerie looked like she was considering shooting both Sam and Dean and burying them in the holes they'd so helpfully dug.

"Relax." Sam raised his hands in what he hoped was a placating way. "He's not the only one."

"Sammy." Dean's tone held a warning.

"He might be one of Yellow Eyes'."

"He was obviously not born in '83."

"So he's a later generation, like Rosie Holt."

"Maybe you should ask him about specifics, _before_ spilling secrets." Dean lowered his voice. "We don't want hunters knowing about your demonic mojo."

Sam nodded, before turning back towards the kids. "Was there a fire in your house when you were six months old?"

Danny raised an eyebrow at the very specific question. "Nope."

"When did you first start-"

"Seeing dead people? When I was fourteen."

"There you go." Dean squared his shoulders. "He's just a regular medium."

"As opposed to?" Valerie tilted her head, and sent a questioning look at her partner. Danny shrugged in reply.

"None of your business." Dean glared at them.

Danny frowned. "Calm down. You've got nothing to fear from us. We're ghost hunters, and you're clearly not dead. I would sense it."

Valerie shuffled slightly, her shotgun visible, as if to show that she wasn't in complete agreement with the previous statement. That she was someone to fear.

"So there won't be some kind of Shyamalan twist where it turns out she was a ghost the entire time?" Dean smirked and inclined his head towards Valerie.

"Oh no, Val is no ghost." Danny smiled, somewhat smugly.

"Wait," Sam blinked. "You're _ghost_ hunters? Only ghosts? Though I guess that makes sense, if you can sense them..."

Danny and Valerie shared a long meaningful look. An entire conversation passed in the silence between them.

Valerie cleared her throat. "You say that as if there's..."

" _Other_ stuff out there..." Danny was frowning.

Sam blinked. They didn't know. These kids were out hunting, and they _didn't know._

"You don't know?" Dean's eyes were wide as he turned towards Sam. "They don't know."

Sam could only nod as Dean echoed his thoughts. This wasn't acceptable. They needed to do something about it.

"There's _a lot_ of other things out there." Sam tried to keep a calm tone. "Demons, werewolves, shtrigas..."

Danny's knees buckled, and he sat down on a nearby tombstone.

"We'll fill you in properly, over coffee?" Offered Sam, earning himself two shocked nods.

* * *

Danny's thoughts were racing.

The bright lights of the still open diner, the cheerful music coming from the outdated jukebox, the smell of coffee... All of it seemed very distant and unimportant.

Valerie seemed to be taking it better than he was, but she was still new to the world of ghosts. That someone else was waiting to go bump in the night wasn't such a big shock to her.

Danny had lived his entire life knowing about ghosts.

Just ghosts.

The coffee tasted good. Heat spread across his body as he gulped down the liquid.

Sam and Dean had stopped by their motel room to shower, ridding themselves of several layers of grave dirt and sweat, before bringing their group to the diner. They had also picked up a beat-up journal, filled to the brim with information about supernatural creatures that _weren't ghosts._

"Are you okay?" Valerie put a steady hand to his shoulder.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." He nodded, convincing himself of the fact. "Just surprised. I can't believe that I... that _my parents_ missed all of this."

Valerie flipped through the journal.

"Your parents were hunters?" Dean leaned forward in his seat across the table.

Danny nodded. "They died on a hunt, a few month ago. Maybe they ran into something like this."

"Other hunters should have told them-"

"We didn't have a lot of contact with other hunters." Danny interrupted him. "My parents were... rather eccentric. They didn't get along with your standard hard-boiled monster hunter."

Danny didn't mention that they'd avoided other hunters ever since the Amity Park incident. There was no way he was going to explain that to Sam and Dean. No matter how friendly they seemed, he didn't know them. He hadn't even told Valerie the details.

"We mostly end up fighting ghosts, too." Dean frowned at them. "But it's not safe to go around hunting if you don't know about the other stuff."

"It's never 'safe' to hunt." Danny's eyebrows rose.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Well, kid-"

"You're not _that_ much older than us."

Dean ignored the comment. "-there's a difference between the risk of a normal hunt and going into a situation blind. We're not just gonna let you run around until we know you know what you're doing."

"So get your people to contact our people." Valerie rolled her eyes. "I'm sure everything can be solved over e-mail."

"Yeah, our people don't know how to e-mail."

"Ash does." Sam looked at his brother.

"I don't want them getting information on monsters from _Ash_."

"So what are you saying?" Danny exhaled, a bit too tired after the night's world-shaking revelations to argue about it.

"You're going on a demon hunt with us."

* * *

 **AN** : Stephen King has forever destroyed my ability to spell 'sematary'. I keep thinking it's supposed to be 'cemet **a** ry'. (In my defence, by virtue of English being my second language, Pet Sematary was the first time I came into contact with the word.)


	4. Demonic Influence

**Demonic Influence**  
Demons - part 1 **  
**

* * *

 **THEN**

* * *

 _Maddie Fenton calmly fired another shot of rock salt into the attacking ghost. She narrowed her eyes, and get her grip on her weapon steady._

 _Behind her, Danny pulled two teenagers to their feet._

" _Are you okay?" He looked them over with a critical eye, noticing the way their clothes were ruffled. They had been pushed to be ground, and would probably end up with bruises, but they didn't seem to be injured beyond that. "Sam, right?"_

 _The girl dressed in black nodded. Her eyes were wide as she stared at Danny's mom._

" _And you're Tucker?"_

" _The one and only." The once confident words fell rather flat, and sounded practised._

" _Hi, I'm Danny. But you already knew that, since I said that this morning in front of the entire class." Danny rubbed at his neck. He hadn't had much opportunity to interact with people his age before, and his nerves were getting the best of him. "I guess this answers that question you had about what my parents do for a living."_

* * *

 **NOW**

* * *

The apartment was small, and sparsely furnished. The reigning colour was purple. The colour repeated on the walls and any and all fabric. The wooden pieces of furniture were painted black. If anything, the colour themed served to make the place seem smaller. Two of the walls were covered in bookcases, which were filled with old tomes. Notes and books were scattered across the room in what would seem to be a chaotic mess, where any logic to the system only existed in the owners mind.

Sam Manson had moved out of her parents' house as soon as it was legal.

Currently, she was lounging on a comfy purple sofa with a thick book. It was newly purchased, but rather than smelling of fresh ink it carried the distinct scent of mothballs. The cover was half leather binding, in red and brown tones. Small letters, which had once been golden, were intended in the spine. They read 'Demonology.'

"I'm not even sure any of this is real." She sighed to herself as she flipped through the pages. "I mean... _demons_?"

On her left, Tucker snorted. He had a laptop, which may or may not have been named Linda, perched on his legs. "Isn't it goth enough for you?"

Sam glared at him. Years of practice let him comfortably ignore her.

"I don't like this." She mumbled it mostly to herself, but Tucker looked up from the screen to look at her.

"Me neither." He kept his voice completely serious. "I don't want Danny facing things he doesn't know about-"

"Not that." She frowned. "Or, well, that too. But I meant... Out of all these things; demons, werewolves, vampires... At least one is bound to be more misunderstood than monstrous. I don't like the idea of Danny running around killing things just because they're not human."

Tucker closed his eyes. He seemed like he was holding himself back from starting another meat versus veggies argument. "Sam, you _know_ Danny. He won't kill anything that doesn't try to kill him first."

* * *

Valerie was considering poisoning Dean and Sam.

Nothing fatal, of course. Just something that would leave them stuck in bed or on the toilet. Something which would let her and Danny slip away without raising questions.

The four of them were sitting in another cheesy diner, which gave her ample opportunity to slip something into their drinks. The fact that she didn't actually have any poison on her was holding her back, though.

Danny was sitting next to Sam, who had his laptop out and internet open to news sites, to show what exactly he was looking for that would show demonic activity in an area. Danny didn't seem enthusiastic about it, but he was paying attention.

Valerie took another bite of her burger, when Danny reached for her fries. She slapped his fingers away without a second thought.

He pouted at her, sticking out his lower lip and making big puppy dog eyes.

She pretended she wasn't affected.

Next to her, Dean had finished flirting with the waitress. He turned back to the table just in time to get the full brunt of Danny's pleading expression.

"Should we have ordered something else? Because I'd _happily_ call back Jessica." Dean had frozen slightly, but forced himself back to a comfortable confidence.

"That's not necessary." Val's voice was clipped. She stared at Danny as if daring him to argue.

"I'm on a low sodium diet." Danny shrugged and leaned back, away from the fries. "Doctor's orders."

Valerie had to hold back a snort. Maddie Fenton was, unlike her husband, not born into a family of hunters. She had finished her PhDbefore leaving her old life behind. Thus, she _was_ a doctor. Danny's lying might have been lacklustre, but his half-truths were works of art.

"That explains the rabbit food. For a second, I thought somebody other than Sammy enjoyed salads."

"Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up." Sam glared at Dean. "Meanwhile, I've found us a case."

* * *

Danny sat in the passenger seat of the Impala. Dean was behind the wheel, going over more information on demons. In the "Foley" Family Ghost Assault Vehicle, Sam was doing the same to Valerie. Of course, _she_ was driving the monstrosity. You didn't want someone uninitiated to control the GAV.

Danny relaxed, as much as he could, into the leather seat. His normal panic response when in contact with other hunters was slowly dying down.

Outside the window, the landscape rolled by. Field of gold were replaced by fields of corn.

Gatlin, Nebraska was as rural as you could get while still having a town. The houses were wooden, most of them were painted a light yellow. One had a scruffy old police car parked outside it, which is where Dean pulled over.

"Just follow my lead." Dean pulled out a couple of badges from the glove compartment. He handed one to Danny.

 _'Impersonating police officers... That's a new one.'_

To their left, the GAV pulled over. For the moment, there were no advertisement for any news stations decorating its sides.

Valerie and Sam jumped out and joined Dean and Danny as they approached the house. Dean and Sam nodded at each other in something resembling understanding.

The local police, one single officer, came out of the house to greet the new arrivals.

"Agent Crosby. This is my partner, Agent Stills. We're with the FBI." Dean and Sam flashed their badges. "And out unpaid interns, Nash and Young."

"Captain Tom Harding, and I don't see why the feds would be interested in this case." The cop crossed his arms. He was a man in his late fifties, though his balding head made him seem older. The hair that he still had was a greyish brown. There was something exceedingly stubborn about the set of his jaw.

Danny stopped himself before rolling his eyes.

"I hate it the police become territorial. If old Harding think that he doesn't need us... he could end up getting in our way." Sam leaned towards Danny and Valerie and whispered from the corner of his mouth.

"We have reason to believe they were murdered by a serial killer. We've been following the scumbag through the state and this fits his MO." Dean's lie was smooth enough, it seemed, because Harding's arms fell to his sides as he shifted into a slightly more open pose.

"Well, we _could_ use all the help we can get, I suppose." It looked like it painted Captain Harding to admit it. "I'll be down at the station, if you need me."

The inside of the house was homely, for lack of a better word. The curtains were flowery, and the sofa had a different pattern of flowers. Every single surface was covered by handmade doilies. It smelled of rotten eggs.

"Sulfur," noted Sam.

Dean and Sam started working the scene, explaining everything they were doing – however obvious – to their small audience.

Danny was about to offer comment when a shiver went down his spine. "As interesting as this is, I'm gonna go interview the witness."

"There were no witnesses." Dean's voice was gruff and confident.

"Sorry, I meant the victim." Danny left the room without waiting for a reaction to the statement.

A few seconds passed before three sets of footsteps followed him.

Danny ignored them as he followed the unmistakable sensation of a nearby ghost further into the house. He lead the others up the stairs and towards the bedrooms. Danny stretched out his hand, gripping a silver doorknob. The feeling stopped.

"It's gone." Somehow, it sounded like a question.

"Maybe it teleported away." Valerie shrugged. "They do that."

"No, it doesn't feel like that." Danny frowned, struggling to find words. "It just... disappeared. No traces left behind." There was a growing pit of dread in his stomach. "I don't like this."

Dean and Sam exchanged another meaningful look before pulling out handguns. Danny stepped aside, and Dean silently counted down from three before they pushed the door open and barged into the room.

"It's empty." Dean slowly lowered his gun, still on guard.

The room wasn't as flowery as the rest of the house. Dark green bedsheets and dark blue curtains, along with posters covering the walls depicting race cars, made it seem like the stereotypical boy's room.

In the middle of the room, unnoticed by Sam and Dean, was a small girl. She wasn't hiding, but neither man seemed to see the child standing right in front of them. She was dressed in a blue hoodie, and a threadbare pair of red shorts. She had black hair in a short ponytail, and a pair of very familiar blue eyes.

The small girl version of Danny lifted her hand and waved. "Hi."


	5. Problem Child

**Problem Child  
** Demons - part 2 **  
**

* * *

 **THEN**

* * *

 _A fourteen year old Danny was sitting in the RV._

 _Even though his mom was the one driving, the Assault Vehicle was being pushed to its limit. She was frowning, and her eye in the rear view mirror was looking for more than just cops._

 _Dad sat in the passenger seat next to mom. A giant map was open in his lap, parts of it covering the dashboard. On top of it were several newspapers, and markers. He was pausing his reading every so often to circle a story. The papers he'd marked went into one neat pile, while the unmarked ones were thrown into a large mess behind his seat. Unlike how he'd usually hum, or chat excitedly about what he'd found, dad was completely silent while working. His hand kept reaching for his gun, as if to make sure it was there if he needed it._

 _Jazz was ignoring them all, her face hidden in a book. It was a school text on government, and she had a notebook open on the seat next to her, but she wasn't taking notes. She clicked her pen every so often, a nervous tick. She was trying to distract herself, but she seemed to realise she wouldn't be going back to school in time for the test._

 _Danny was trying to not pay attention to any of that. He was failing._

'This is all my fault.'

 _His eyes were locked onto his hands. He curled and uncurled his fingers, trying to make sense of the change. Something was different, had been for a while now, that much he was certain of. He just couldn't put it into words, the way the cold was creeping underneath his skin._

 _An EMF meter that was lying abandoned next to him started to screech._

 _Danny closed his eyes and took a long breath, trying to calm himself down._

 _Silence returned to the fake news' van._

* * *

 **NOW**

* * *

Danny could only stare at the small child in silent awe.

Dean and Sam didn't seem to notice her, even as she walked past them and held out her hand in greeting towards Danny.

"Hi, I'm Danielle. You can call me Dani, with an 'i'."

Danny made no move to take her hand. "You seriously expect me to buy that?"

The Winchester brothers turned around and gave Danny similarly confused looks, but he ignored them.

Valerie craned her neck to see over Danny's shoulder. She was still standing in the hallway outside the bedroom. "Is there something invisible in there?"

Danny nodded.

Dani seemed to realise Danny wasn't going to take the offered hand. She reluctantly lowered it.

"What did you do to the ghost that was in here?" Danny's eyes narrowed, his tone was as accusing as he could make it.

"I don't suppose you'd believe me if I said _I_ was the ghost?"

"And, what, now you're suddenly _not_ a ghost?" Danny raised an eyebrow and kept his tone sarcastic. "Yeah, _right._ Now tell me what you did to-"

"Tell Dean 'Tessa says hi'." Dani leaned back on the balls of her feet, completely relaxed.

"Erm, 'Tessa says hi'. Whatever that means."

Dean cursed colourfully. "Reapers."

"Reapers are a thing?" Danny was suddenly very happy that he hadn't shaken her hand.

"I helped the ghost that was in here move on move on." She said it cheerfully, like it wasn't meant as a threat of some sort. It still felt like one.

A completely nonghostly shiver went up Danny's spine.

"I'm not here to kill you." As if reading his thoughts, Dani huffed and crossed her arms. He wasn't sure if she was offended or just messing with him.

A part of Danny wanted to reply with 'then why _are_ you here?', but not in front of the Winchesters. He opted for a different question instead. "Why do you look like me?"

"I can twist your perceptions." The last word sounded weird, coming from someone who looked to be twelve. "You wouldn't like my true form, but this might... put you more at ease."

"How big of a narcissist do you think I am!?"

Her grin told him he didn't want to know the answer to that.

"You've obviously got me confused with- with Vlad." Danny threw up his arms as he turned around. "You know what, we're done here. You've already sent away my witness. I've got no reason to stay."

"We're not done." She sounded petulant, like the child she pretended to be.

He ignored her as he walked away.

* * *

Valerie joined Sam in investigating the town archives, found in the basement of City Hall. It was big and poorly organized. The lack of proper ventilation made the smell of dust mix with their sweat. Only the fact that it was in the basement made the temperature bearable.

She had wanted to go with Danny, to help him deal with whatever it was that was going on, but the Winchesters had rightly pointed out that neither Val nor Danny knew enough about demons yet to head the investigation on their own.

"What do demons want, anyway?" Valerie leaned back in her borrowed seat, a rickety old chair that felt like it could collapse at any time.

Sam looked uncomfortable with the question. "It varies."

"And just... killing people? Is that an option?"

"Oh yes."

"So, what do we got?"

"Four murders in as many days. We've got 'til tonight to figure out the pattern."

* * *

Dean led Danny into the house where the family of the murdered man was staying, while their home was still a crime scene. Unlike the study of doilies, this one actually looked like it was inhabited by more than a grandma. According to the local police, it was the home of the wife's sister.

Going by how jumpy Danny was, the reaper was following them. Still.

That part didn't make any sense. Actually, none of it made any sense to Dean. Why had the reaper stopped to introduce herself? Sure, they'd pretty much walked into her, but...

The way the reaper hadn't left yet was setting off all sorts of alarm bells in his head.

However, he couldn't focus on that. They had a job to do.

Danny stiffened slightly as he saw the woman who opened the door. Two children were holding onto her legs, obviously afraid that if they let her go, she'd leave just like their dad had. They looked to be around four years old.

Dean figured Danny's reaction was either because we was a bleeding heart, an odd trait to hold onto as a hunter, or because the reaper said something.

"Mrs. Hirsch?"

She nodded.

"Hello. Agents Crosby and Young of the FBI, we need to ask you some questions about your late husband."

His phone vibrated in his pocket. Incoming text.

"Just excuse me for a moment, ma'am." Dean pulled out his phone.

She waved it away as she led them into the house.

The text was from Danny. Dean glanced in the kid's direction, but Danny was pointedly ignoring him.

'she looks wrong. txtd val'

There was half a second where Dean took it at face value. It wasn't like he'd known Danny all that long. For all Dean knew, it was perfectly possible that Danny was the sort of person to gossip about people's looks behind their backs.

After half a second, he noticed how stiff Danny was. This was not the body language of someone spreading nasty gossip.

In this case, "looks weird" came from someone who could see ghosts.

And there were two children in the room, holding onto their possessed mother.

* * *

When her phone buzzed, Valerie was glad for the distraction.

When she opened the text from Danny, her happiness evaporated like fresh lemonade in the summer sun.

Sam looked up from his research as she let loose a string of curses. "What-"

"Danny sent me an SOS."

* * *

Pretending to _not_ see the way the woman's face was covered in smoke-like shadows, or the way her eyes were pure black, was hard. At least his tiny stalker had left them before they got to the house. She had promised to be back, but he held out hope that she'd forget all about him.

Danny sat at the edge of the sofa, ready to jump off it at moment's notice.

Dean seemed less tense, but he was a good actor. His guard was definitely up. Dean must have understood the message. In retrospect, Danny could have sent something more clear, but he wasn't _sure_ the woman was a demon. Maybe she was a smoke-monster.

Dean coughed under his breath, which sounded suspiciously like 'Christo'. As far as Danny could tell, that did absolutely nothing.

"Oh, Dean," she tutted.

Dean tensed at the use of his real name.

"You can stop pretending you don't know. After all, you have _that thing_ with you." The demon sneered the last words in Danny's general direction.

If Danny didn't know any better, he'd say she was disgusted by his very existence. Coming from a smoke monster, that was sort of insulting.

Dean reached for something in his jacket.

"Relax, we wouldn't want something to happen..." She held the children closer to herself.

Dean put his hands on his knees, where they were clearly visible.

"Good." She practically purred the word. "Now, let's just wait for Sammy to show up, shall we? I noticed you texting him."

Danny frowned. Bait. They were nothing but bait. That probably held true for the murders too. "What do you want with Sam?"

If possible, Dean looked more worried about the question than about the demon threatening them.

"Sammy is... special." The demon leaned forward.

Dean bristled at the repeated casual use of what was probably a very personal nickname.

"He, and those like him, are... an experiment, of sorts. One I don't approve of. Too risky, in my opinion." She leaned back again. "But since when do the big shots care about the opinion of the little man?"

Danny shrugged with forced casualness.

"I plan to terminate the experiment. Much like you, it shouldn't have existed to begin with." She smiled like a predator baring teeth.

"Wow, _rude_ ," said Danny.

"I won't let you hurt Sam," snarled Dean.

The children were starting to realise something was very wrong with their mommy, but she just adjusted her grip on them to stop them from moving. "Quiet, dearies. Mother is busy."

* * *

 **AN** : All in all (including planned chapters), I have more chapter titles that _are_ AC/DC references than I have titles which are just normal titles. I'm proud of myself.


	6. Rising Power

**Rising** **Power**  
Demons - part 3

* * *

 **THEN**

* * *

 _Danny shook with fear, and he was secretly thankful when he was pushed to stand behind his dad's large back._

" _I won't let you hurt my son." Jack Fenton was uncharacteristically serious, with no trace of humour in his voice._

 _The other hunter, the stranger that had dropped by their town after increased reports about hauntings, swore and readied his shotgun. "That_ thing _is not your son! You're a hunter, Jack! You can't let it fool you! It's not even human!"_

 _Danny's heart pounded in his ears, and he concentrated on the sound and the words his mother had told him. His heart beat, therefore he was alive. He wasn't a ghost._

" _He is human, and he is my son." Jack's tone allowed no room for argument._

" _I think it's time for you to leave." Finally, the cavalry arrived in the shape of Danny's mom and a loaded handgun._

 _The hunter looked between the angry parents and their mostly hidden son before making up his mind. He lowered his weapon. "This isn't over."_

* * *

 **NOW**

* * *

The living room was homely. The armchairs were soft, though the fabric was worn from use and the pattern faded. The coffee table held a rapidly cooling cup of coffee and an abandoned newspaper. The curtains were drawn, not letting in the last of the evening light, but still a cheerful yellow colour.

Danny and Dean sat on a small sofa, while the matching sofa facing them held a small family of three - A mother and two children.

In Danny's eyes, the mother had a face made of shadows and eyes as black as night.

Apparently, that was how a demon possessing someone looked to him. He could have happily gone through his entire life without finding out that particular fact.

The demon's hands were heavy on the children, pinning them down on the sofa. She smiled widely, showing off teeth. There was no need for her to hide her malice, since she knew that they knew that she was a demon.

"Sammy and things like you go against the natural order. I won't stand for it." The demon smiled sweetly, pitch black eyes locked on Danny. "When he comes here to save you, I'll deal with him."

Even if she hadn't pointed out Danny's own oddities, he still would have found the accusation as hitting far too close to home. He had to crush down a surge of anger. He was no monster, and he was no _bait._

"Why, do we make you feel _threatened?_ " Danny smirked, casually leaning back on the sofa. Faking confidence was easy. "You do realise that you're not the largest predator in town, don't you?"

The demon sneered in response.

Danny let his anger flare, not bothering to clamp down on the emotions like he usually did.

Predictably, all the lambs flickered.

Dean's eyes widened slightly, gaze moving from Danny to the demon and back again.

Danny gave him an exaggerated wink.

The demon was less surprised, and not at all impressed by the display of power. "You think you're _strong,_ human? Just because you can do a little light show?"

Danny gave a small snort, but stopped himself from saying anything. Someone calling him 'human' as an insult was almost refreshing. Usually people didn't take offence to that part of him.

Still, it was all good. After all, his plan hinged on the demon thinking that "little light show" was meant for her eyes only.

* * *

Valerie swore as she and Sam watched the house from afar. The probably looked like creepy peeping toms, hiding in the bushes with a pair of binoculars, but that didn't matter.

Danny and Dean were inside with a demon, and given Danny's texted SOS (followed by no more contact) they would need help to escape. Not the _fake excuse_ kind, but the _guns ablaze_ kind. That meant the demon wasn't trying to pretend to be human anymore.

The curtains were drawn downstairs, stopping them from seeing anything. There was no way to tell whether Danny and Dean were still unharmed, or even alive.

The lamps in the house flickered, clearly visible from the upstairs bedrooms and the little light that streamed through the curtains.

Valerie smiled.

"What was that?" Sam didn't share her enthusiasm. His shoulders tensed. "Is it a ghost after all?"

"No. That was a signal."

"From Danny? What does it mean?"

"I'm not sure..." What _did_ it mean? Danny wouldn't risk doing something like usually. Especially not in front of other hunters. It would bring all attention to him, and that was something he avoided.

Unless that was the entire point.

Valerie's eyes widened with realisation. "It's a distraction."

* * *

Dean was no fool.

He acted like one, on occasion, but he knew his stuff. His stuff mainly included supernatural phenomena. Like mediums and psychics.

He knew Danny Foley was not a medium. It became rather obvious after the kid make all the lights flicker.

Sam's theory about Danny being one of Yellow Eyes' kids was feeling less and less far-fetched, despite all the evidence against it. It wasn't like they knew all about Yellow Eyes' plans to begin with.

At least the possessed woman had confirmed that Danny was human, and not some ghost or something.

* * *

Danny lounged on the sofa, settling in comfortably between the decorative pillows.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, so softly that nobody else noticed it.

Hopefully, that was Val's way of signalling that she was on her way and needed a distraction. If it was Sam or Tucker, Danny was about to take a huge risk for no reason.

Oh, well. You can't make an omelet without risking it coming to life and cracking a few skulls.

Danny cracked his neck and leaned forward, the motion bringing back the demon's attention to him.

"So, this little plan of yours..." Danny trailed off, throwing in some fake concern. Nothing annoyed people like obviously fake concern. "What are you hoping to accomplish? Any long term goals? This is your chance to do the villainous monologue. You shouldn't waste it."

The demon looked insulted.

Danny smiled sweetly. "Come on, you're a demon. Creepy black eyes and smoke face. Embrace your evil side and do the villain things. I mean, those kids are obviously just substitutes for a cat."

"A cat?"

"Yes. You want to keep a cat in your lap and pet it, because that makes you seem ominous and stuff. Typical villain behaviour, but I've got to say, kids don't really work as a replacement."

"They're _hostages._ "

"Really?" Danny jerked back and held a hand over his heart. Maybe he was overdoing the 'playing dumb' thing, but if he didn't let himself have fun when trying to anger demons, he'd never get to enjoy himself. "I never would have guessed."

Dean seemed amused, at least. He either picked up on what Danny was doing, or he just felt like being a jerk to a demon. "I figured out that they were hostages, but I've been a hunter longer than you."

Scratch that, Dean obviously felt like being a jerk to _Danny._

The demon's fingers curled painfully into her hostages, nails like claws. The kids were crying, but were too scared to make any noise that would bring attention to them.

Danny let his temper flare again, making the lighting go haywire.

There was a dull crash from upstairs, like breaking glass.

The demon jerked, her head turning slightly towards the stairs.

"Oh, and here I was aiming for your face." Danny sighed, pouting.

The demon's attention returned to him.

"I'm not just light shows." He smirked, showing off teeth.

His lie must have worked, because the demon didn't notice as Sam Winchester poked his head down the stairs.

Danny personally thought that breaking into a house via the upstairs windows was pretty cool.

"Still, two hostages is kind of overkill," said Dean as he noticed his brother. "They're just kids."

 _'Oh, Sam must have heard that. Smart.'_

"I don't need to keep you both alive until Sammy gets here. Just Dean will do for bait." The demon looked pointedly at Danny.

 _'Sam probably heard that too. I love villains who monologue.'_

"Come on now, you don't have what it takes to kill me. I keep telling you, you're not the most dangerous person in town anymore." Danny barely got the words out before the demon pounced on him, throwing him into the far wall.

It successfully got her away from the hostages, but Danny was beginning to question his own methods when she stalked towards him.

It was at that point that Dean sprung to his feet, placing himself between the demon and the kids, and Sam Winchester decided to run down the last steps, completely foregoing stealth.

The demon stopped, delighted. She turned fully towards Sam with a wide smirk on her face.

Since her back was turned towards the front door, and her attention fully occupied, the demon failed to notice Valerie picking the lock and casually walking inside. She left the front door open, likely because she didn't want to risk the demon hearing the sound of it closing.

Valerie dropped to the ground, standing on her side on her hands and knees.

It took Danny a moment to realise what she was trying to do, but then Sam tackled the demon so that the back of her knees hit Valerie.

The demon fell through the still open front door and landed outside, into some weird circle which was drawn on the ground.

Val and Sam shared a satisfied nod, while Danny and Dean both offered their teammates high fives. Valerie didn't leave Danny hanging.

"Devil's trap. She's stuck in there," explained Valerie when she caught Danny staring at the occult themed graffiti. "Sam's idea."

"You shouldn't have underestimated normal humans so much," said Danny casually to the trapped demon. "The most dangerous person in town is obviously Val."

Sam stepped forward, ignoring Dean's offered hand, and started chanting in... Latin? It was probably Latin.

Whatever it was, it made something underneath Danny's skin itch uncomfortably, and the demon disappear in a cloud of angry black smoke.

Danny silently wondered what the others saw when they looked at it.

* * *

 **AN:** I changed the summary, hopefully making it more reflective of what this fic is really about. The old one only really worked for the first version of this story, which didn't continue beyond the first three chapters.

Next chapter we get reactions and the return of the annoying reaper. In the mean time, feel free to check out my pure Danny Phantom fic _Conversations with Dead People_ for more DP ghost story funtimes featuring Valerie and Danny as the main characters. It's got medium!Valerie, ghost!Danny and character arcs.


End file.
